Tales of a Poor Poge by Richard Palmer - HTML preview

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ANGEL, DARK ANGEL

 

Angel, Dark Angel
Roaming on silver, gossamer wings
Angel, Dark Angel
Whose death song do you sing?

Is it a new life, yet unborn
For whom beauty is not perceived
Whose vibrant thread is now suddenly torn

And stripped of life and deed?

Is it a struggling youth
With a spirit just conquering fear
Whose eyes see only illusion
And will be allowed no time for the mist to clear?

Is it one with your blessing twice
Whose wisdom came so high
For whom now at the toss of the dice
More life you must deny?

Angel, Dark Angel
Roaming willful and free.
Angel, Dark Angel
Will you next visit me?